


Meadows and Memories

by NMD_Writes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Auror Harry Potter, Aurors, BAMF Ginny Weasley, Better Than Canon, Cursed Draco Malfoy, Death Eaters, Dobby is a Free Elf (Harry Potter), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy, F/M, Fix-It, Forgiveness, Future, Future Fic, House Elves, Malfoy Manor (Harry Potter), Memories, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, My First Work in This Fandom, Mystery, Pensieves (Harry Potter), Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-Hogwarts, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, The Golden Trio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29188650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NMD_Writes/pseuds/NMD_Writes
Summary: Hermione Granger, now mother of two and working for the Ministry of Magic, begins to reflect on her marriage to Ron Weasley. During a particularly difficult investigation involving House Elf Trafficking, she encounters Draco Malfoy, who only further challenges her current situation.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Scorpius Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 3





	1. A Familiar Face

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place post-epilogue of Deathly Hallows. I attempted to incorporate as much post-epilogue canon information as possible, though there is some deviation. I wrote this several years ago for a friend who is a big Dramione shipper, I hope I have made something you all can enjoy too!

A strange haze held over this particular morning, much to Hermione’s distaste. She took another sip out of her mug before setting it down on the counter. The longer she stared out the Burrow’s window the more she realized how dreary the backyard had become. The kids had recently taken to practicing herbology spells, so that now the garden was overtaken by vines, weeds and various grasses. What once was fresh and inviting was now thorny and dying. The chairs outside had begun to rust due to a special enchanted rain Rose had tried earlier in the week. Strange rustling came from unwelcome-looking shrubbery below the window. She smirked and gently shook her head, taking another sip. Surely, Harry’s godson Teddy had let out another strange creature into the yard. 

She had asked Ron to encourage them all to rectify what was once her beautiful garden, but she presumed he hadn’t gotten to that yet. He was away now on a trip with his brother Charlie, who needed an extra set of hands (and an extra wand) for his latest dragon discovery expedition. Ron had always wanted to go along ever since he was little—so how could she object? But watching the children alone this week in particular had been overwhelming. She had just gotten an owl earlier in the week letting her know that the eggs the brothers had discovered weren’t like any other recorded previously so Ron would have to stay and help out a week longer than originally planned. Normally, she wouldn’t mind but the timing wasn’t ideal. As Hermione went up the ranks in the Ministry, more responsibility befell her—which she embraced wholeheartedly. But with school starting up for her children, it seemed a daunting task to get them ready for the term while also starting up such a large project at work. 

The Ministry had set her in charge of investigating rumors of illegal trafficking of House Elves happening still under her department's nose. If these rumors were true, that would mean that the culprits had magic advanced enough to evade their usual detective systems. The file folder was a few inches away from her hand, she slowly drew it towards herself and let out another sigh. Ordinarily she would set up an elite team to take on such a project but because this operation undermined all that she had worked for in the last ten years she had made it her personal mission. She was hoping that the information inside had changed, that the suspects would be strangers to her and she could pursue without hesitance. She shut her eyes and opened up the flap. But she couldn’t change what the investigation had already led to. She sighed again as she looked upon a moving image of Draco Malfoy turning up the collar of his coat against the cold and turning down a dark alleyway. Her mouth puckered into a straight line. Of course he would never change. Whatever sympathy she may have had for him throughout the years had evaporated. She couldn’t help but wonder what devious plot made him go to Knockturn Alley that particular day his photo was captured. 

“Mum?” Hugo called softly from behind his mother. Hermione quickly licked her lips, shut the file and turned around realizing he may have been calling her name for quite some time. 

“Sorry, love. What is it? Is it time for breakfast already?” Hermione glanced up at the clock they had inherited from her in-laws. It was a muggle habit to look at the face of a clock and expect to see time. Instead she saw Ron’s spoon still pointed to somewhere that wasn’t home. 

“Don’t we still have to go and pick up our books today?” The young boy asked timidly. All of the tasks Hermione would normally have done months in advance had fallen to this dreaded week. 

“Oh! Yes, of course. Is your sister up? Rose!” she called. She began scrambling around the kitchen getting together all the lists they would need, pouring Hugo some tea, finding their jackets for the day, and tucking away the folder into her desk in the other room. 

By the time they reached Diagon Alley it was full of all the last-minute Hogwarts shoppers. 

“This is why we should’ve gone WEEKS ago!” Rose emphasized, crossing her arms and throwing dirty looks at the masses. She, like her mother, hated procrastination. 

Hermione was flustered. The case had been keeping her up at night and now had distracted her for too long this morning. The sun still hadn’t come out and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. The breeze was unforgivingly cold and so she sent Rose and Hugo over to see their Uncle George who would presumably be in Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes today, and who would hopefully offer them some warmth and treats. She was barely balancing their stacks of books, reaching for twine to tie them up she knew she had in her coat pocket. A strong wind whipped her hair around her face and someone bracing the wind bumped hard into her shoulder, knocking her off balance. All the beautiful books she had just purchased were mixed up and strewn on the ground around her. She hoped too many pages weren’t bent. She crouched down to begin to straighten them out, and while most figures in coats passed her by on this harsh day, one person bent down and stacked the books remaining beside her. 

“Thank you so much” Hermione whispered, exacerbated. “I’ve had sort of a crazy day...” Her eyes met the friendly strangers as she took the stack of books from his hand. Her mouth remained agape but couldn’t quite finish her thought. She hadn’t expected to see him in this fashion.

“Draco…” she breathed briefly, before realizing her pause “that’s quite alright—I’ve got it all now thank you.” She speedily gathered up all of her belongings and straightened herself upwards. She proudly stuck her chin up as she moved the hair out of her face and adjusted her coat. Draco didn’t say anything in response, his face had been expressionless throughout their interaction. He simply nodded and backed away, his son Scorpius approaching behind him. Draco gestured his son into the bookstore and he followed behind him into the doorway, stopping briefly to lift his hand as if to say goodbye to her. Hermione stood puzzled, her eyebrows furrowing in embarrassment. She pressed forward towards the other shops, trying to put his face out of her mind for the second time that day.


	2. The Surprise

“Big project?” A voice asked loudly. Hermione shot up, not realizing she had fallen asleep. Strewn across her lap and chest and all across the coffee table and floor before her lay various papers—above her, Ginny Potter laughed and shook her head. “I never understood how you did it all these years” Ginny reached for the papers remaining on the couch and organized them into a pile on the table. Hermione adjusted to make room for her sister-in-law to sit, rubbing her eyes and sorting herself out. “People with great ambitions need great support systems.” Ginny raised her eyebrows and took another sweeping look around. “Why didn’t you call me for help if you needed it? I’ve been on a hiatus for a month now.” Ginny set her hand on Hermione’s. Hermione smiled gently, wincing slightly in embarrassment. 

“I hadn’t realized I needed help” Hermione admitted silently as she stood up to stretch. “Can I get you something?” She flicked her hand over towards the kettle which began to heat up. 

“I’m fine thanks.” Ginny followed Hermione into the kitchen. “But is there anything I can do for you? I can run errands—or if you need help on your project you know I over-hear enough from Harry’s work that I can be a fresh set of eyes, ideas...” Ginny offered. Hermione shut her eyes briefly, considering this before shaking her head. 

“If Harry wasn’t on such a vital assignment already I would’ve snagged him for mine. There isn’t anything I particularly need help with though—just maybe a little encouragement. It’s the first time in a very long time that I have had hesitance and doubts. Harry makes a great partner because he makes you feel invincible, he builds you up, doesn’t he?” Hermione smiled and looked up at Ginny who nodded. 

“That's one of the things I love about him. No matter how large and outrageous my ambitions seem he makes me feel like I can achieve them. And then he supports me no matter the outcome, no matter my choices.” Ginny mused. Hermione looked at a framed picture on a shelf above the kettle as she prepared some tea. Her and Ron were smiling at the camera on their wedding day, and then back at each other before kissing. Harry was always a better friend to her than Ron was— where Ron was oblivious-Harry was attentive, where Ron was harsh-Harry was gentle. All the years of teasing and arguing were a young Ron’s way of unsuccessfully channeling his feelings for her. He had been insecure— thinking of rejection, thinking of popularity. In time he had grown to mature, he was able to say the things that he truly felt. They were just usually negative things. Hermione had always been one to be honest and true. But was she being true to herself lately? 

Ginny had been silently observing Hermione’s changing expressions. “My brother had never been the brightest wizard. I had hoped he would make for a wiser husband. He should’ve known better than to leave you alone now. Your line of work ending up being as stressful and dangerous as it does. Kids starting another term. If mum was still alive she would send a howler his way demanding he return to his responsibilities. If not fly there and get him herself.” Hermione smirked and shifted uncomfortably, stirring a cup of tea she had just poured. “Mid-life crisis indeed...” Ginny scoffed, leaning against the counter. 

“Ron is so many things to me. He is calm when I am a whirlwind. He keeps me from worrying all the time. Without him here—it’s just hard.” At that moment a very old cat jumped down from its hiding place on top of the fridge, knocking over Hermione’s tea. Ginny laughed.

“Is this still one of Crookshanks’ offspring? Or is it a grand-kitten? I never could keep track. They all look like orange blobs to me” Ginny gently poked the cat’s nose in its sunken face. Hermione was furiously cleaning up the tea before it got to the floor. Ginny rolled her eyes. “Listen, you need a break. And not just a pass-out-on-the-couch break. Let’s go out to the pub. Have a drink.” Ginny grabbed the towel from Hermione’s hand and tossed it into the sink before putting her hands on Hermione’s shoulders “Come on. Please. Let’s go.” Ginny shook Hermione until she finally broke out into a smile. 

“Alright, alright. Sure. If I don’t have a break, I will surely have a breakdown. Let me just get my things—” Hermione began spinning around, searching in drawers. 

“You look great! It’ll be my treat—let’s go!” Ginny said impatiently, shoving Hermione towards the front door. 

The pub Ginny chose was one where many sports fans clearly gather regularly. It was not Hermione’s ideal choice but she was happy to be away from her work. They both ordered drinks and sat down in a cozy booth and chatted for a while.

“How would Ron help you if he were here? What would he say to get you out of this whirlwind?” Ginny asked, finishing off her third glass of Blishen's Firewhisky and gesturing to the waiter for another. Hermione thought about it for a moment, swirling the glass of Butterbeer she had hardly touched.

“He would probably tell me not to stress. That everything will work itself out.” Hermione shrugged. 

“That’s it? _That’s_ what you would be getting from him? Anyone can tell you that. I’ll tell you that right now if you want” Hermione was about to object when Ginny leaned forward only inches away from Hermione’s face. “Are you happy?” Hermione nearly choked on her beer.

“What?” Hermione squeaked, wiping foam from her mouth. 

“Are you happy?” Ginny pressed. 

“With my work? Yes, I...I find it very rewarding to bring justice to those who are subjugated and—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re passionate about your job and the stress is balanced out by the reward. But what about the rest of your life?”

Hermione paused. “What do you mean? 

“You know what I mean.” Despite the alcohol, Ginny was as sharp and observant as ever. “Lots of couples fall into slumps. Some recover, some don’t. Marriage isn’t the end-all be-all. Life is long. Why waste time on something that’s not working out? Why be less happy than you could be? That’s what I say” Ginny finished bluntly with a shrug. 

“Well… You know, I—Some things are worth fighting for” Hermione whispered, flustered. 

“And is it? Is what you have worth it? Once the kids are all grown and out on their own, will you still be satisfied? Listen—you’ll always be my sister. But I’ve known Ron all my life. And while I will always support the two of you, I think you deserve so much more than what he’s been giving you lately. You’ve got such great ambition, such passion. Ron is content with little and only concerns himself with himself. He’s always been that way. How long are you going to wait for him to be the man you want him to be?” 

“I think you’ve had enough to drink. And so have I—” Hermione stood up. “Thanks for the night out. I will— talk to you later” She grabbed her coat and her purse and stormed out of the bar.

By the time she got to her front porch she had finally processed what Ginny had said. She shook her head and then allowed herself to sink down against the front door. The old cat mewed a question at her from the adjacent bush before approaching Hermione’s slumped form. Crookshanks II gently licked a tear that had trickled down Hermione’s hand. Hermione lifted her head and pet the sweet creature, as if to thank it for its kindness. She sniffed as she pulled herself together and decided she would use her frustration to work harder on her project. If there was ever a time to throw herself into this case it was now. 

“Come on, Crookie, let’s get inside, yeah?” Hermione cooed while opening the front door and stepping into her home. She was startled by a figure standing before her, she quickly grabbed towards her coat pocket to retrieve her wand but then heard a familiar voice. 

“Where’ve you been?” 

Hermione sighed in relief. “Ron, oh god, you scared me. What are you doing here? I thought you were suppose—” 

“I came home early to surprise you and you weren’t even here!” Ron scolded, throwing his hands in the air.

“Well..I wasn’t expecting you home until—” 

“And to make matters worse I got a call from a friend—you were down at the pub having drinks? Who were you with? This time of night?” He stepped out of the darkness into her space. “Were you out _with someone_?” He accused, eyes squinting in suspicion.

“I was out with YOUR sister Ron. I— she came over and wanted to take me out, we got a little carried away and stayed out sort of late. I didn’t know you were coming home early, of course I would’ve been here if I had known.” Hermione explained, trying to reach out to his arm but he flinched away.

“Sorry, I just had a long trip out here to come home _especially for you_ and when I get here, I hear you’re out on a work night. Just didn’t sit right.” He shook his head. Hermione’s mouth stayed open for a moment before frustration ran across her face.

“Oh come on. I have been doing everything around here so you can go and do what you want to do—” 

“I was helping out my brother! It wasn’t a vacation—it was still work!” Ron hissed.

“Work! You cannot be seriously lecturing me on what qualifies as work, I work full time and do the majority of—” 

“Oh yes, Ron the useless husband! I do nothing do I?” Ron sneered. 

“I never said that—I—I just don’t think you appreciate all that I do considering how little trust you give me—”

“What about those letters I found two years ago? How am I supposed to _trust_ you after that?!” 

“We have been over this! My pen-paling with Viktor was purely platonic— he’s happily married, we live different lives! I don’t think of him in that way! The only reason I didn’t tell you was because of how out of control your jealousy can be!” Hermione ranted before lowering her voice “I thought after the locket you would have learned how jealousy can skew your mind and rule your life but clearly—” 

“The only thing that’s clear to me is that you are keeping secrets from me again” Ron stated cooly, shrugging.

“Keeping secrets? Are you mental? I would’ve told you about going out with Ginny once you got back—I have nothing to hide!” Hermione exclaimed in a frenzy. Just then there was a knock at the door. Ginny stepped in slowly around the door and quietly shut it behind her. 

“Sorry to interrupt. I forgot my scarf—” Ginny confidently crossed the room and picked up her scarf from the back of the couch. “Good to see you made it home safely” she nodded towards Ron, who, still sulking, nodded back. Ginny lowered her voice and turned toward Hermione “And I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I’m sure you know what’s best for you” she looked meaningfully for a moment then flicked her eyes back to her brother “Goodnight!” She waved her scarf up to say goodbye as her figure disappeared down the road. 

“She never does know when she’s in an awkward situation” Ron shook his head, lowering his folded arms. 

“I figure it’s because she lives her life so she never feels awkward.” Hermione responded quietly, shutting the door once more. 

“Huh. You’re probably right. As always.” Ron sighed and approached Hermione, rubbing her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I overreacted. I just missed you. I have so much to tell you.” Hermione gently smiled and nodded.

“I’m sorry too.” For what, she wasn’t sure. 

Perhaps for the doubt she now felt as she lay in bed listening to his tales, and only his tales, for he had yet to ask about how things had been here. Once he was snoring beside her, she quietly shuffled back down into the living room, looking up at their clock to see if indeed the true Ron had come back. And sure enough the jealous being who lay in their bed was him—his spoon was pointed home. He had always been that way she had come to see. But she always forgave him. She was imperfect too, she told herself, and he had forgiven her sins. She sat down and pulled her paperwork close to her, it was time to crack this case.


	3. Dobby's Trail

Today would be a better day, Hermione told herself. A week of tension with Ron had led her to work extra hard. Now she had all her work in order and was walking up to the ruins of Malfoy Manor at last. The gate had creaked open easily enough. She was sure in its heyday it had every enchantment known to magical kind. But now the lawns have roughened, the beautiful creatures gone, outer spells weakened. It reminded her of her own backyard at the moment. She knew that people still lived here though, but as for who she couldn’t really be sure. Ever since the war, the Ministry has been trying to earn back the trust of the people in order to do proper censusing. But considering they were rounding people up and trying them in court, she didn’t blame any citizen for their hesitation. The Malfoys were especially mysterious. They wanted neither side of the war to discover where, if anywhere, they went. 

She was at the intimidating front door. The black paint was withering, but the knocker was still an ornate vibrant silver. It was in the shape of a serpent. She gently lifted it and knocked three times. 

“Hello!” Hermione called. “Ministry of Magic, open up”. 

“Who is it?” An old woman’s voice harshly whispered from just behind the door. 

“Yes, hello. My name is Mrs. Granger-Weasley and I am from the Department of—”

“I know you” the voice whispered. “What is it you want from me?”

“With whom am I speaking, Ma'am? I am looking for a Draco Lucius Malfoy. We just need to ask him a few questions in regards to a pending investigation and I—” the door opened suddenly and before Hermione stood a very slender elderly Narcissa Malfoy. Her cheekbones were still high and pretty but her face was very thin and wrinkled. She still wore makeup even in her old age and her expression still reflected a proud woman. She was using a cane that had once belonged to her husband to balance. 

“Draco? He’s not here. He hasn’t lived here for quite some time.” She said with a resounding sadness she could not hide. 

“Oh, I see. Perhaps you could direct me to where I might be able to find him —” Before Hermione could finish, Narcissa turned around into the hallway and gestured Hermione to follow. 

“Come in. Have some tea.” Hermione looked around and adjusted the badge on her lapel before entering behind the old woman. 

The vast living room was dark and dreary as ever. She had hoped to never see this place again. She still had nightmares about what Bellatrix had done to her just over there on that floor. She was glad that the years of therapy had helped her be able to face this moment. The once beautiful hardwood and furniture—the decadent wallpaper and fireplace—all had fallen into disrepair and was coated in dust. 

“Sit, sit. I’ll make you a drink and then you can tell me what Draco is in trouble for. As his mother, I have a right to know, no matter how old he is” Narcissa continued to mumble about her son as she slowly headed into the kitchen. Hermione sat on the cleanest part of the couch as not to be rude to her host. She began looking around at the dusty paintings and various forgotten things until she realized quite a bit of time had passed. 

“Narcissa? Mrs. Malfoy?” Hermione stood up. She heard a shriek from upstairs. She reached for her wand and quickly mounted the shaky staircase. “Mrs. Malfoy! Please, are you alright? What happened?” Upstairs, there was only one door unlocked and ajar so Hermione hesitantly approached it. “Mrs. Malfoy?” She lowered her voice and pressed the door open further. She stepped into the room, scanning for any sign of the fallen woman. Someone behind her quickly shut the door and locked it. 

“Mrs. Malfoy?!” Hermione flipped around. 

“My boy has done nothing wrong,” Mrs. Malfoy said through the shut door. “He has left any kind of evil or malice behind him. He serves no Dark Lord anymore. You are not going to accuse my Draco, after all I’ve done for him, all these years. You will not jeopardize his freedom. I am sure you will realize he is innocent... in time.” The old woman’s footsteps could be heard walking away.

“In time? Mrs. Malfoy, please this is just a routine questionnaire, I have nothing to accuse your son of, he may just possess vital information for my investigation. Please, unlock the door, let me go on my way, I won’t bother you anymore!” Hermione pleaded. “Alohomora!” She whispered with her wand several times to get the ancient door open. It would not budge.

Hermione frantically spun around the room looking for another exit. She immediately tried to apparate back outside but the house wouldn’t allow her. The windows were all blocked out and enchanted too, she had tried opening them several times to no avail. This house was ancient and had more years of magic protecting it than she had learned in her short life. But she would not be content to wait for Narcissa to come and feed her, if that is the sort of hostage she had become. She had to escape. She took a deep breath and tried to refocus. She was in a bedroom, a rather large one. But she doubted Mrs. Malfoy, Lady of the Manor, would lock a stranger in her own bedroom. No, the bed was coated in many layers of dust, each corner covered in cobwebs. As she began to take in the room she came to realize that it was Draco's. The bed had dark green velvets and black satins, and all the woodwork around the room was carved beautifully and encrusted with dark gems and crystals. But it was not the decadence or grandeur of the room that made her realize it was his—it was the vanity mirror. It had been cracked as if someone had thrown a punch into it. She knew Draco to be a troubled, tumultuous individual. She traced over the cracks in the mirror and then over the surface of the desk. She quietly opened the drawers and shuffled things around gently with her wand. She didn’t want to accidentally touch something malicious, but she wanted to know every bit of information she could about this room. She imagined most people would have drawers full of old letters and photos, knick knacks and keepsakes. Draco on the other hand had either cleared out all of his belongings or didn’t have any to begin with. In the bottom drawer, far in the back she dragged a large heavy key with her wand. She examined it briefly before gently lifting it with “Leviosa”. 

“And where do you lead to?” She whispered. It spun around delicately before her, and she used any detective spells she could think of to see if it was cursed or protected, but nothing seemed to be enchanting it. So she let it fall into her hand. She rushed towards the bedroom door but it was about twice the size as the keyhole there. She knew it would’ve been too good to be true. Beyond that— she knew there was also enchantment at work here. A key alone would not allow her to escape. She tucked the dark key into her blazer pocket and began her search once more. Half an hour had passed with no fruition. She slumped onto the edge of the bed in a huff. She pulled out the case file from her bag. The Malfoys had been known to be very pro-House Elf enslavement, that was no secret. But ever since the war they had caused no trouble, barely raised their heads up and made a peep. 

“They always did try to lie low” she muttered aloud. “Lie low—lying low!” She dropped to the floor and began scanning the walls of the bedroom. “Most House Elves travel with magic—apparating from one room to another as needed, but older homes and buildings were built with passages for them.” She ran her hands along the wallpaper searching for any indication that a passageway may be covered up behind it. “I’d have to lie low to get through it—” Just behind a floor-length Slytherin tapestry she found it, a small little groove underneath the wallpaper that felt like a little door. She tore off the paper and revealed a miniature door. She pressed against the wood, but even in its old age it would not give. She noticed a black metal square on the door and she had to use all her might to move it—but, just as she expected, it revealed a rather large key hole. Breathlessly, she snatched the key from her blazer pocket and shoved it in. She looked back behind her, over the bed towards the main door but heard no sound, no footsteps. The key turned with some effort but luckily it didn’t make too much noise. The passageway before her was pitch black and had a putrid odor emerging from it. It was just big enough for her to crawl through on her hands and knees. 

“Lumos” she whispered and her wand obediently lit her way forward. She took a deep, sharp breath and then began crawling her way into the darkness.

She did not know how long she would crawl for, much less if she should take any turns if she came across them. Her hair, which had been up and tidy, began to unravel, her clean and crisp blazer was now coated in dust and cobwebs, and her business skirt had begun to tear at the hem. And the cobblestones on the ground were doing her knees no favors. If she did ever emerge from this tunnel, she would definitely look worse for wear, she thought. In truth, Hermione had aged gracefully. Though wrinkles had begun to form they complemented her, emphasizing her kind, brown eyes. And even though parts of her hair had begun to gray and lose their luster, her beauty still held strongly. 

When Narcissa Malfoy had looked upon her face a few hours earlier, she thought Hermione looked as she did all those years ago. Surely Hermione was here to persecute her son for all the wrong-doings of his father. Surely, she was here to ruin what life he had left to live. She grabbed a handful of powder from a pot on her mantlepiece and tossed it into the fireplace. 

Back in the tunnel Hermione was in luck for the passageway ended abruptly. She shoved her weight against the end of the passage which had only been boarded up with a few pieces of wood. It broke suddenly and she fell part-way through. She was in another room but she couldn’t exactly tell what sort. There didn’t appear to be a bed—so perhaps it was a sitting room. As she pulled herself up she noticed there were many pieces of furniture covered up with old sheets. A storage room, perhaps. There did not appear to be an obvious door out to the hallway. There was only one window and it was small and very high up. It gave just enough light to be able to see the general space of the room. A large item was pushed up against the opposite wall—perhaps this was concealing the exit, she thought. She gently pulled the cover off and let it fall to the ground. The dust nearly choked her but she tried to stifle her coughing as not to be heard. It was a grand, dark cabinet. She tried to peer behind it and shove it aside, even attempted magic to move it —but it was no use. She hesitantly opened the doors which triggered a series of moving pieces to open up even larger than she imagined, almost knocking her over. 

“A pensieve...” she whispered. It slowly and silently came to a halt just before her. Shelves had opened up to reveal memory vials. She paused briefly to consider this may be some sort of trap. But she sensed nothing. And her curiosity only grew with every passing second. She reached out to gently touch the vials, wondering whose memories these were, what memories they were. 

“Dammit all!” Narcissa screeched suddenly from down the hall, causing Hermione to knock into the cabinet— dropping the vials forward into the pensieve. 

“Shoot!” Hermione whispered. She did not know what would happen if multiple vials were dumped in at once. But it was now or never. Surely Narcissa had discovered the empty room she was supposed to be in, but hopefully she hadn’t figured out where Hermione had gone. The tapestry should’ve fallen back over the passage but she couldn’t be sure Narcissa didn’t know of the path. 

Hermione gently re-approached the glowing pool, beautiful swirls of color drifting before her eyes and then before she knew it she was sliding down into someone’s memories.


	4. The Puzzling Pensieve

A 12-year-old Draco crept down a dark hallway of the Manor and peered secretly in a lit doorway. Current-day Hermione softly trailed behind him.

“No more secrets, Lucius” Narcissa whispered harshly in what appeared to be Lucius Malfoy’s old home office. “Whatever plans— whatever schemes, I am to know of them—understand me? My _job_ is to protect this family. I cannot protect us—I cannot protect _our son_ until you give me details! What to prepare for! I know you are planning something, you will include me or you will regret it.” She leaned forward on his desk.

“It’s that blasted Arthur Weasley. The _buffoon_ proposed a Muggle Protection Act at the last meeting. The Ministry is breathing down our necks looking for ‘illicit dark artifacts’. The world is shifting again Narcissa, and this time I cannot claim to be under a curse and I cannot hide.” Lucius growled.

“So what are you planning to do?”

Dobby suddenly snuck up next to young Draco, who held up a frantic finger for silence from the House Elf. 

“The Dark Lord entrusted me with a plot before his victory was stolen” He dug into a drawer in his desk and pulled out a black diary with a handkerchief. “He wanted this reintroduced to the Hogwarts student population— it is bewitched to re-open the Chamber of Secrets”

Dobby began to shiver and point frantically around, clearly distressed with this news. Draco had to shush him again and hold down his flopping limbs.

“And the beast? ” Narcissa pressed. 

“Once the Chamber is opened, the Basilisk will begin to rid the school of the filth they’ve allowed in. A small victory in the name of purebloods and in the Dark Lord’s plan for domination. Parents and the greater public will be calling for Dumbledore’s _head_ after each death. And as a bonus, if given to the right person—it could also discredit the Muggle Act. The daughter of _Mr. Arthur Weasley_ opens the Chamber of Secrets. Won’t go over well for him I’m afraid. Hopefully that Harry Potter will get in the way and be purged as well.” 

The memory faded away and swirled into Flourish and Blotts. She was beside twelve year old Draco again who was pouring over a book about basilisks. He scanned the page frantically and then perked up when he heard a frenzy below. He leaned over the railing to the downstairs section to see the craze over Harry Potter’s arrival. He rolled his eyes and watched the scene below. Current day Hermione was puzzled to find that she recognized the page he was scanning over. She watched Draco descend the stairs to meet up with younger versions of herself, Harry, Ginny and Ron. As he walked down Draco tore out a page confidently, acting as though he was defiling the book. But she watched him gently fold the page and slip it into his pocket. 

“Bet you loved that didn’t you, _Potter…_ ” Draco spat. The memory began to warp forward and she could hear her younger self say “Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself” in a squeaky voice, and saw young Draco staring at her younger face. The memory became more clear again.

Lucius Malfoy had stepped forward “And you must be Miss Granger. Yes, Draco’s told me all about you. And you parents. Muggles, aren’t they?...” Her young face shot fierce concerned looks at her parents who were further into the book shop. Current Hermione smiled gently at how young her parents looked, she missed them. 

The memory lurched to Borgin and Burkes later that day.

Lucius was complaining to the shopkeeper. "I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin... Though if his school marks don't pick up, that may indeed be all he is fit for —" 

"It's not my fault. The teachers all have favourites, that Hermione Granger —" began Draco.

"I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam." His father sneered at him.

Draco looked away, ashamed and angry. 

Another flash forward—to the second school term out in the courtyard. 

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent." Young Hermione said with confidence. 

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood." Draco sneered. 

Another warp, they were in Professor Snape’s old office.

Severus leaned in to Draco “I know she’s an incessant know-it-all boy but why draw attention to yourself? Making little girls cry— is that the sort of dark task your father sends you on?”

“Father says she shouldn’t be better than me! But she _is_! In every class, every exam she scores higher than me! It doesn’t make sense! All my life I have had the best training, the best tutors and she somehow just comes from nothing and does it all! I hate her! She brings shame to my family! My father despises me now. She has humiliated me so why shouldn’t everyone humiliate her! She’s the one with dirty blood.” He sat down in a huff and crossed his arms.

Snape looked as if he was getting a headache. “Try and understand Draco, there is more to this world than your parents have taught you.”

“What do you know anyway? You’re not even pure blood are you! And—and from what I’ve heard of you actually fell for one of them! You’re a fraternizer! A traitor!” 

Snape in an instant had Draco cornered “Get out.” Draco’s face fell as he realized he may have damaged his only true allegiance at the school. 

The next thing Hermione knew they were in the Hogwarts library, what must’ve been a few weeks later. 

Young Draco looked frantically around the library, sneaking around the aisles of books until he found what he was looking for. He looked around cautiously before pulling out a sheet of paper—the page he stole from the book in Diagon Alley. That’s when he saw her—young brilliant Hermione pouring over a pile of books, while cautiously looking into a mirror she had beside her. He began to strut towards her. 

“Doesn’t that mirror shatter every time you look at it? Must be _exhausting_ to keep fixing it.” He teased. Hermione didn’t even bother to look up. 

“Leave me alone, I’m busy...” she said, bringing the books closer to her face. Draco took the opportunity to knock a nearby stack to the floor, dropping the page from his pocket amongst the many that came loose from the ancient books. 

“Whoops...” Draco said as he sauntered away, smirking. 

“Ugh! Jerk.” Hermione whispered as she collected the pages back up. 

When he got back to his dorm room, Dobby was waiting for him on his bed “Master Draco”, he bowed. “Did you do it, sir? Did you tell the girl about the THING? I cannot say it SIR!” 

Draco groaned “Yes, why are you here? We aren’t working together. You’re doing your thing and I’m doing mine. Separate, alright? Now get out of my face.” He gestured to Dobby to get off of his bed.

“Dobby is a little confused, though, Sir. I thought you hated...”

Draco removed his shoe and threw it at the Elf. Dobby squeaked and apparated away.

The memory turned yet again, but this time to their third year at Hogwarts.

A very offended Buckbeak rears up and knocks Draco down to the ground, injuring his arm. Teenage Hermione runs forward “Hagrid! He _must_ be taken to a hospital!” As Hagrid carried him away, Draco looked back at Hermione’s worried face. Another warp forward. 

Draco was lying in the school hospital wing, angrily glaring out the window. He sighed loudly as Dobby apparated next to him. 

“What do you want?” Draco asked grumpily. 

“Does it hurt?” Dobby tried to reach his hand towards Draco who flinched away.

“Why does she always have to care so much about everything?”

“Who, sir?” Dobby inquired.

“My father will be here soon, you should leave.” Draco muttered. 

Another warp forward.

“You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!” Teenage Hermione hit Draco unexpectedly. He reeled away from the attack and ran off. He told his friends she would regret doing that. As he separated from them though in his room, he cried. Dobby appeared by his bedside. 

“You’re not mine anymore! _Go away._ ” Draco wiped away his tears roughly. 

“Dobby is free now, he works here by his choice.”

“But why are you HERE right now. I command you to leave.” Draco said in growing anger.

“Dobby knows no master now, he goes where he pleases. He wanted to see how Sir Draco was since Dobby left the Manor. Dobby knows it must be hard for him at home to have no one to talk to now.”

“LEAVE!!” Draco searched frantically for a shoe to throw at Dobby as he usually did, missing very poorly. Perhaps he had on some level cared about Dobby— his only confidant in a house full of chaos and confusion, Hermione thought. A lonely existence.

Another quick lurch, possibly from the way the vials fell into the pensieve. Their fourth year, Hermione recognized. 

Draco, like everyone else, stared in awe of Hermione at the Yule Ball, as she descended the stairs. Neither he nor Pansy could think of any insults to throw her way. Current day Hermione blushed at all the expressions of those around her, at the time it was all a blur. She saw Ron looking on in disbelief, horror and jealousy. She sighed and shook her head. As teenage Hermione took Viktor’s arm and waved at her friends, Pansy pulled herself back into the moment. Draco continued to watch Hermione walk away in silence, which Pansy noticed, causing her to pull him aside.

“What are you doing?” Pansy asked Draco through gritted teeth. 

“What?”

“Why are you drooling over _that?_ ” Pansy gestured towards where Hermione stood in the ballroom doorway. 

“I’m not drooling over anything, I just wanted to see what everyone was looking at.” Draco said defensively.

“Why did you bring me here tonight? You know I have feelings for you Draco but every time I try to make a move you reject me!”

“My father expects me to take someone—everyone expects me to uphold the family name. I needed to bring a pureblood” Draco rolled his eyes “You’re the only one I could think of that was worthwhile” Draco said plainly as he distractedly looked past Pansy at Hermione’s dress flowing into the ballroom.

“ _Only_ one you could think of?” Pansy crossed her arms. “How flattering.” She snapped her fingers in front of Draco’s face.

“I don’t want to argue” he mumbled, waving her hands out of his face.

“You need to straighten yourself out. Figure out what it is you want and then come find me.” Pansy jabbed her finger into his chest to emphasize her words and pushed past him. Draco did look handsome in his dress wear, current Hermione thought. His cheeks were finely chiseled and his blonde hair wasn’t its usual slicked-back greasy form that Hermione had always found unappealing. His eyes were sharp and blue and his thick brows framed them well. Draco gave one last look towards Hermione’s receding form and then followed behind Pansy, jogging to catch up to her.

The memory faded to later that night, Hermione was crying on the stairs, having just told Ron and Harry to leave her alone. She took off her shoes and had no one to console her. Current Hermione had forgotten how many times Ron had disappointed her. The teenage Hermione finally wiped her eyes and stopped whimpering, climbing the stairs with what pride she had left. Draco was at the top of the stairs in the shadows of the corridor, watching the scene unfold. As she turned to head towards the dormitory he stepped forward as if to reach out to her but then retracted his gestures and backed away hastily. Current day Hermione followed him. He moved swiftly as far away from that moment as he could. She found him heatedly talking with Snape. 

“WHY? Why isn’t everything lining up the way it's supposed to! I—I don’t understand! I’m so confused!” Draco was pacing back and forth.

“Calm down, Draco” Snape leaned against his desk. Hermione figured Snape probably had to say this to him very often.

“Father always said—he always said that it was them or us. That we were all so different. That they were beneath us, unworthy of time or energy, unfit to lead, scum of the earth!” 

Snape unphased, raised a brow. “And now you think…?”

“And now I DON’T know! I find myself so ANGRY all the time.”

“Angry at what?” 

“At them! At my parents! At mudbloods! I don’t know —everyone!” Hermione could see so much pain run across Draco’s face, it was hard to watch. And from what she knew of Severus Snape, he could probably relate a lot to Draco. Being so alone, being so angry, so confused. But Harry had gone through hard circumstances too. His family mistreated him for so long, he lost so many people he loved, brought up among muggles who hated magic, being the chosen one since birth—so many people expecting so much from him— it must’ve been difficult for him too. And yet he chose to be kind, and brave from the beginning. But Snape was able to at least redeem some part of himself in the end—to change, to be selfless, to work on the side of good. Had Draco ever really redeemed himself? Hermione realized during her train of thought the memory had faded again.

Draco had his head in his hands. “It’s gotten so much worse. He’s back now. He has asked me to redeem my family. I am not ready for this. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t even know if this is what I want to be doing!”

“Hush now boy, pull yourself together. If you want any chance for your family to be spared you will do this for the Dark Lord” Snape whispered tensely.

“Howww—-how can he ask so much of me? A task he himself was never able to accomplish” Draco’s eyes were streaming with tears.

“He doesn’t expect you to accomplish it, this is your father’s punishment for losing the prophecy and failing him. In the impossible chance you do then he is rid of a great enemy. But the Dark Lord is betting on your failure.”

“I don’t want my parents to get hurt but I don’t want any part of this. What can I do? Can’t we run? Can’t—can’t….I can’tttt….I never wanted to hurt people in this way. I just want this to be over” 

Suddenly Hermione was being lifted up, dragged forwards and backwards and out of the pensieve altogether. 

Current day Draco held her gently by the arm looking puzzled. All of Hermione’s professionalism and decorum melted away.

“What is this? Why do you have all these memories saved? I —I don’t understand” She gestured towards the pensieve and then shook his hand off of her arm. “Who do you think you are! Tell me where the house elves are! Admit it— it’s you! I will not stand for this!” She pulled out her wand and pointed it between his eyes.

“It’s Astoria, she’s the one you’re looking for.” Draco said quietly and calmly, looking Hermione directly in the eye.

“What?” Hermione took a step back. “Isn’t she—that’s your _wife_ isn’t it?” 

Draco raised his eyebrows and solemnly nodded. 

“What evidence do you have? Why, why should I believe you? Pinning your misdeeds on your own wife!” Before Hermione could begin another accusatory rant, Draco cut her off. 

“We talked about starting anew away from our pureblood family lines and prejudices and all that came with it. I thought we understood each other. I thought we were on the same page. I wanted to escape all that had happened.” He bent down and began placing a few fallen vials back into the cabinet. Hermione did not lower her wand but instead followed him with it. “Apparently her family had been doing it for generations and she couldn’t be the one to break tradition. We moved into my parents home and taught our son about equality of bloods and yet under our own roof she still practiced hypocrisy. I don’t think my parents truly forgave me for bringing my son up differently. The mistakes I made I wish my son would never have to face” Draco reached past Hermione to shut the cabinet door and she took a step aside, lowering her wand. “Once I figured out what was going on—what she was doing, I left. Took Scorpius with me. Didn’t want him to know what his mother was doing.” Hermione paused, taken aback by this insight. She had trouble believing him. 

“What were you doing in Knockturn Alley the day this photo was taken?” She had pulled out the case file. He didn’t even glance at it, but instead continued to stare at Hermione.

“I’ve been working on clearing the old Manor of the cursed and dark artifacts” He gestured to the covered furniture. “I take them to Borgin and Burkes when I need assistance determining counterspells and the like. If I brought them into the Ministry I’d have to deal with the consequences of where they came from. My mother's too fragile to be submitted to another raid, and I just wanted it to be done with.”

“Fragile?” Hermione huffed “ _Hardly._ ” She began tucking the papers and photos back into her file and the file back into her bag.

“I am sorry if she mistreated you.” Draco tried to reach out his hand toward her but she shuffled aside and pointed towards the cabinet.

“And _why_ do you have these memories?” She glared at him.

“I was sorting through them. Trying to decide how many times I could’ve turned my life around and didn’t. Learning from my mistakes I suppose. A little self-reflection.”

“Are they centered around me because I was the person who went into them, activated them?”  
Draco shook his head. “Then I am at a loss here, I don’t understand.”

“I’m learning from my mistakes” He repeated again, quietly, looking away. 

“What do you mean?”

“So much of my regret centers around the people I hurt. I lashed out at everyone because I was afraid, prideful and confused. Full of hate. And more often than not, for so long—that was you. I’ve been thinking about that so I was surprised to run into you the other day. But to tell you the truth I wasn’t quite ready to um—”

“I can imagine, Diagon Alley isn’t exactly the place—” Hermione cleared her throat nervously.

“Right. Yes, well. I was hoping to collect my thoughts and memories and then work to make amends with the people in my life. Even if it is too little too late. I could say I was a product of poor parents but we all have choices, don’t we? I chose to hurt you instead of dealing with my feelings. That was my choice and mine alone. At the time you represented what my parents always taught me was my enemy, you were also a fierce academic rival, and a threat to everything I was taught.”

“A threat?” She repeated.

“My family and every family I ever associated with believed Muggle-born wizards and witches were so many things...and you weren’t any of them. You were exceedingly talented and bright and… just so different. You challenged my beliefs and for that I lashed out at you. And that wasn’t right. I am sorry. For everything. I don’t expect us to be friendly. You have your life—I have mine. But I don’t want to live with my regrets. I want to move past them and be the best person I can—for me and for Scorpius.” Draco explained.

Hermione took a moment to take in what he had said. She looked over this current-day Draco, the photo she had been staring at over the weeks made him seem much more devious than he appeared in real life. His eyes were bright and clear, his face still chiseled and handsome even in older age. He had always been a sharp dresser, but she realized today and the day she saw him in Diagon Alley he had looked much softer, less harsh. For years he wore the nicest, top-of-the-line suits in shades of black and deep green. Now he seemed much more approachable and casual. Perhaps his mother had cut him off since he moved out, she nearly rolled her eyes imagining that all these years he’s lived off his parents work and not his own. She scanned over his face trying to recognize deception, but only found stillness. His face was guarded and expressionless, and he seemed to be waiting patiently for her to come to some sort of conclusion. 

“I see.” She finally said much more calmly. She was here for work, she had to remind herself. “Well, I will need to verify the house elf trafficking claims for myself, so I will need to take a more official statement from you and must gather as much information I can from you before I take any further steps. I will need to be in contact with you so… we must update these forms.” She used her wand to lift out a series of papers and held them out for him to take. She half expected him to say no or rip the papers in half, but instead he gently took them and looked them over. 

“Can we fill these out somewhere else? I prefer to spend as little time here as possible.” His eyes moving across the dusty room with a look of tired disgust. 

“Yes, I—hang on how did you get in here? Where’s the entrance? I tried to locate it but…” She turned around the room trying to figure it out. 

“I think a better question is how did _you_ get in here? I always knew you were smart but that’s impressive.” They held a glance for a moment.

“Oh well—I just, you know—used the, um..” Hermione half-gestured towards the tiny doorway across the room. Draco nearly choked as he tried not to laugh. And she tried to hold her head up high. 

“You crawled through there?” His eyebrows were raised in amusement.

“I —well, yes—your mother _locked me_ in your room-” She flusteredly began to explain.

“Dobby would sometimes use that passage when I was a boy, so Mother wouldn’t hear him apparate when he came to visit me. But, yes the only way in or out of this particular room, secret House Elf passages aside, is by apparation”

“I tried to apparate out —” 

“Apparation... _by a Malfoy_.” he gestured out his arm for her to take it. She stared at it and then back at him. If he was lying he could be taking her anywhere. But she did not know Draco to have such a level of sophisticated planning. And as far as she knew she could not find her own way out. She would have to trust him. She hesitantly took a step towards him, took his arm and in an instant they were gone.


	5. Draco's Cottage

“Where are we?” Hermione breathed. They were upon the top of a hill, covered in stretches of meadow as far as the eye could see. Before them was an intricate iron fence, Draco gently opened the gate and walked through. Within the front yard were hundreds of flowers, stone pathways, a few herbs and other plants Hermione did not recognize. 

“Scorpius’s Meadow, as he calls it. He’s really gotten into Herbology lately.” Draco walked briskly ahead on the stone path that divided both sides of the front garden.

“That’s like my Rose. But unfortunately her work in my yard has left it in quite a state” Hermione crossed her arms and slowly walked through the garden touching the flowers gently as she went along. 

“That’s surprising—considering who their mother is. Half-Granger children should be excelling above all others.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was still behind.

Hermione stiffened up. “My children do very well thank you.”

Draco nodded, and gestured towards the small home that sat ahead on the property. 

“This doesn’t seem like your kind of place...” Hermione observed, noting how quaint it was.

“You can only live in darkness for so long before you’re sick of it.” Draco muttered quietly, opening the front door. “Excuse the um— my work...” Draco shifted some boxes on the floor with his foot. All across the small space were tables filled with what appeared to be various alchemy sets and objects. 

“What exactly is...your work?” Hermione was trying to make out what all of this could be. 

“My father left me a rather large inheritance. Astoria got about half of it once we separated. But even so I don’t _need_ to work. But I like to. I have always enjoyed working with dark objects—” Hermione shot him a look. “Studying them, that is, understanding them, disenchanting them—reversing curses. I’ve also been interested in alchemy, enchanting. After the trials and errors of creating the vanishing cabinet pair in school, I realized I actually enjoyed that sort of thing. But I figured I might as well help people out while I’m at it.” 

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Help them out _how_ exactly?”

“It may not be legal, strictly speaking. But the whole discreet curse removal seems to be something people seek out.” He made his way around the series of boxes, Hermione copied his movements so as to not knock over anything, or bump into something unsavory.

“The Ministry has a department specifically dedicated to things like this.” She stated frustratedly. 

“It’s the _discreet_ part people are concerned about, not everyone wants to be subjugated to searches and raids and paperwork and forms-” Draco glanced up at Hermione’s frown “Although I’m sure it’s all in place for a reason…” Hermione glared at him and straightened herself before sitting down at the kitchen table. 

“Let’s get back to business then shall we? Please fill out all of these forms here, and then I have some questions for you regarding your wife and her whereabouts, the operations, the families involved—”

“All of that in one sitting? Now?” Draco sat across from her.

“Well—I, yes. This is an official investigation and the lives of innocent House Elves are at stake, there is no reason to drag out one of what will be many interviews—”

“Oh I see. It’s just that it is getting sort of late. I figured you’d have to be home by a certain time.” He didn’t look up to see how she reacted, instead he continued to flip through the pages.

Hermione paused for a moment before stating, “I do whatever I need to do during an investigation.”

“Doesn’t that affect your personal life?” Draco raised his eyebrows, still flipping through the packet.

“This isn’t about my personal life, in fact it’s about _yours_ —so tell me everything please, from the beginning.” She lifted her wand and all of her supplies sorted themselves out on the table in front of her. “I advise you these forms will know whether you are accounting truthfully.” She pursed her lips and pointed to the first pile. 

Draco sighed and began to tell Hermione what he knew of his wife’s covert operation. He explained about the utilization of old passages and dark magic, and that old pureblood families were trying to maintain what they once had to make up for all the power they had lost since the war. Hermione had a quill taking his statements while she diligently hand-wrote her own side notes. 

“Er...” Draco said tentatively. 

The quill stopped scribbling and she looked up, startled. “What is it?”

“The sun has already gone down, and I know this is important—but I really need to get some sleep. Can we pick up the rest of this tomorrow?”

Hermione looked around, she had been so enthralled in his stories that she did not realize how late it was and how tired she felt. “Oh I suppose you’re right. Well, very well then. Thank you so much for your cooperation, I will be in contact with you very soon. I am sure I will need your guidance as I go along through the investigation.” She packed up her things quickly and then made her way to the front door. Draco followed behind and opened up the door for her. 

“So, tomorrow?” Draco asked gently, his fingers tapping on the doorway frame.

“Perhaps, it will, uh, depend on what other leads I may find in the meantime, what I discover when I read over my notes…” Draco nodded but didn’t make eye contact. “But, yes, until then—” Hermione held out her hand and Draco finally looked up to shake it. “Thank you again. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Malfoy.” Draco was once again expressionless. 

“You as well, Mrs. Granger... or is it Mrs. Weasley?”

“It’s _Granger_ -Weasley, actually.” Hermione realized they were still shaking hands, which was much longer than she was ever comfortable with. They both adjusted awkwardly and paused for a moment. 

“Am I, uh, can I apparate from here?” She said, gesturing to the front garden. Draco nodded and folded his arms, leaning in the doorway. “Right, great. Thanks.” She backed up into the garden.

He raised up one hand as if to say goodbye and she weakly nodded before he slunk away into his home, closing the door. Hermione stared at the shut door for a few moments before shaking her head and apparating away.


End file.
